The-Boy-Who-Lived Again
by potato-magic
Summary: Harry Potter wakes up in the cupboard under the stairs for the first time in nearly ten years. Why is he back with the people who made his life so unpleasant? How can he get back to the future? The story both you and Harry know and love, retold through the eyes of the twenty year old chosen one.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Sorry, it's unedited. I'm feeling lazy. Hope you like it. _

Bang, Bang, Bang. "Up! Get Up! Now!" a shrill voice was screeching.

Harry woke with a start. Where was the fire? Where was Ginny? Where was he? He felt around for his glasses, which he found beside where he had just been laying.

"Up!" the voice called again.

He slid the glasses on, and was startled to see that he was in a certain cupboard under a certain set of stars which he had never wanted to visit again. He heard whoever it was outside the door walk away, followed by some crashes coming from down the hall. It had to be Aunt Petunia.

It's strange, he thought, he had never really dreamed about Privet Drive before, even when he was living there. Why was he having this dream now?

"Are you up yet?" the voice that had to be Aunt Petunia demanded. She was back outside the door.

"Hardly…" Harry said.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday." His aunt said.

"Dudley's birthday?" He wondered what birthday Dudley was having. One before Harry had gone to Hogwarts, obviously, otherwise he wouldn't be in the cupboard under the stairs.

"What did you say?" Aunt Petunia snapped through the door.

"Nothing, Nothing..." he heard the woman walk away again. He was curious, this was a strange dream, and he wanted to see how it went.

He looked around for some clothes, finding them under the bed. He pulled them out and looked at them. They looked too big, and rather worn out. He hadn't worn anything like that in years. As he dressed he looked at his body. He was young, and thin- thinner than he ever remembered being. As he pulled on the baggy, moth eaten shirt he wondered why no one had ever come in to check on him. Muggles had child protective services, didn't they? The Dursleys had to have filled out some paperwork when he was a baby so that he could live with them. Muggle adoption was a long process from his understanding, why had no one ever gone to see if he was still alive? Why had no one at school ever inquired into why he was so thin and dressed in such shabby clothes?

He got up and went down the hall into the kitchen. He was greeted by a huge mountain of presents, and the smell of bacon. He tried to recall if he had ever gotten a birthday present from the Dursleys…

He went and flipped the bacon. It was strange to move. He was so much smaller than he was normally. No one ever remembers being small. They remember being a child, but they never seem to remember how small children are.

"Comb your hair!" Harry turned to see Uncle Vernon walking into the room. He looked younger than when Harry had last seen him. It was strange. Harry stood there watching him for a moment.

"What are you staring at? Go on, make breakfast." Uncle Vernon said as he sat down beside the mountain of birthday presents.

Harry turned back to the stove. He hadn't really cooked in a long time. Ginny usually did the cooking, except on Sundays when they went to the Burrow for brunch, then it was Molly who would do the cooking. And when he did cook now, it was by magic.

He was frying eggs when Dudley and Aunt Petunia came into the kitchen. Aunt Petunia looked younger too, and Dudley was a fat little child, opposed to the fat little man that he would eventually become. The sight of the young Dudley made Harry want to laugh, but he put in a valiant effort to keep a straight face.

As he was serving up breakfast he got splashed buy a bit of the hot bacon grease. He winced. That had hurt. Actually hurt. Things weren't supposed to hurt in dreams… Were they? His scar used to hurt when he drempt, but that was because he had a dark wizard burrowing into his mind. This was just a bit of dream grease. It was odd…

He took the plates over to the Dursleys and took a seat at the table.

"Thirty-six, that's two less than last year." Dudley said. Harry had seen people react better to death eater attacks, than Dudley was reacting to birthday presents.

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy." Uncle Vernon said, trying to amend the obvious mistake.

"All right, thirty-seven then," Dudley said, looking as though he was about to throw a hissy fit.

"And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?" Aunt Petunia said, doing her best at damage control.

Dudley screwed his face up in concentration, "So I'll have thirty . . . thirty . . ."

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia, still a little on edge.

"Oh, all right then." Dudley said, grabbing the nearest present. Aunt Petunia let out a breath.

"Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" Uncle Vernon said proudly as he ruffled the young Dudley's hair.

Harry vowed that if he ever had children, that he would do everything in his power to prevent them from being like Dudley.

The phone rang, and Aunt Petunia got up to get it. Harry watched as Dudley opened his gifts, chewing idly on his breakfast. Dudley's eleventh birthday had been the one where they went to the zoo, right? He smirked as he thought that maybe this time around the snake would eat Dudley.

"Bad news, Vernon, Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." Aunt Petunia said as she came back into the room.

Why a broken leg would prevent you from watching a child was beyond Harry. Didn't most people send their children to visit with old ladies when they broke their legs?

Aunt Petunia glared at him, "Now what?"

"We could phone Marge," suggested Uncle Vernon. Oh dear, Aunt Marge. The last time Harry had seen her, she had been floating away after being blown up like a balloon… It was great.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy." Aunt Petunia said. Harry wondered if they realized he was sitting right there.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend - Yvonne?" Uncle Vernon suggested. Harry for the life of him couldn't remember anyone named Yvonne. He wondered if she was a nice lady.

"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"You could just leave me here?" Harry suggested. He was nearly twenty two after all.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" his aunt said with a rather foul look on her face. In all fairness one day Ginny had come back to the house in ruins, but that was after having a boy's night with Ron, Neville, Dean and unfortunately Seamus. Needless to say Seamus and fire whiskey tend to not mix well, but Aunt Petunia wouldn't know about that.

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo. . . and leave him in the car. . . ." said Aunt Petunia, looking as though those were the last words she wanted to be saying

"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone. . . ." Uncle Vernon said. There was great comfort taken from the fact they were more concerned with the state of their new car, than with the ten year old boy that they were planning on locking in the car in the middle of a rather hot summer.

It was then that Dudley started to pretend to cry. Harry had to try very hard not to burst out laughing at the theatrics. It was a wonder Dudley didn't get into the theater.

"Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" Aunt Petunia cried and flung her arms around the nasty little boy.

"I . . . don't . . . want . . . him . . . t-t-to come! He always sp-spoils everything!" Dudley wailed. Then he shot Harry the nastiest grin that he had ever seen, and he had unfortunately been acquainted with Bellatrix Lestrange. Though she looked less cruel, and more crazy.

The doorbell rang, and Aunt Petunia let go of her son, "Oh, good Lord, they're here!"

The next thing Harry knew he was being taken aside by Uncle Vernon.

"I'm warning you. I'm warning you now, boy - any funny business, anything at all - and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas." He was leaning in close, trying to look as menacing as possible. It was a bit comical.

"I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, why on earth would he intentionally do anything? He knew last time he had accidentally unleashed a dangerous snake, but he didn't really want to go through that again.

Soon enough after, the Dursleys with Harry, and Dudley's friend Piers Polkiss were in the new car, driving to the zoo. A strange thought hit Harry, this was the second time that Harry had ever been to the zoo, and the first time was the last time he had lived through this day. He should take Ginny to the zoo tomorrow, she might like that.

". . . roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," Uncle Vernon said, as a motorcycle overtook them.

"I think I would like a motorcycle, one that could fly though." Harry said. The truth be told he had a flying motorcycle. He had taken the idea form Sirius and bought a muggle motorcycle and charmed it so that it could fly. It was nice to go out for a fly on the weekends, and the motorcycle was more comfortable than a broom.

Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front of them. He turned right around in his seat to yell at Harry, "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

He was tempted to fight him, but he thought better of it.

It was a nice day out, and the zoo was full of people with small children. They looked around the zoo for a while, Harry soon remembering that when on an outing with the Dursleys that you don't stand too close to Dudley, or else you may end up with some nasty bruises. He was a bit alarmed when he actually felt the hits that he was taking. He wished he knew more about dreams.

After a surprisingly tolerable lunch Dudley and Piers decided that the wanted to go to the reptile house. There was a certain amount of uncertainty about this, if he let the snake go again, all hell would break loose again, but he was a fully grown wizard now. He knew how to control his magic, and he wasn't sure he would even be able to make the glass disappear wandlessly now. He couldn't even think of what spell he would use if he wanted to, things generally didn't just disappear.

Dudley and Piers were determined to find the biggest snakes, and within a few minutes they came to Harry's old friend. Dudley went and pressed his nose up against the glass.

"Make it move," the fat boy demanded.

Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, which, surprisingly, did absolutely nothing.

"Do it again," Dudley whined, and Uncle Vernon complied; still now getting any sort of a reaction out of the snake.

"This is boring," the boy said, before he walked off to find something better.

Harry looked the snake over. It looked an awful lot like Nagini. The thought sent a shiver through him, there was something creepy about that snake, which he assumed had to do with the bit of Voldemort's soul that was lodged in her… But Nagini was dead, she had been for years.

The snake then winked at him.

"I get that all the time," the snake said as it looked after the Dursleys.

"I know. It must be really annoying." Harry said.

The snake nodded.

"I wish I could help you," Harry said.

"I understand…" the snake said.

"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!" Piers said, excitedly.

Harry gave the snake an apologetic look, "You can't swim to Brazil from here anyways, or I might help you."

"Thank you anyway," the snake said.

"Out of the way, you," Dudley said as he punched Harry in the ribs, sending the smaller boy to the floor. Dudley and Piers pressed their faces to the glass, as the snake coiled itself back up. He felt terrible that he couldn't help the snake, but honestly how far could a giant ruddy snake get in the muggle world? The last time the snake was probably caught the day after it was released. Poor snake.

Harry got up and brushed himself off. The glass had remained intact, and Harry had saved himself a lot of trouble.

The rest of the day was much like the first bit. He enjoyed the zoo, and avoided his cousin and Piers. Even on the car ride home, there was hardly any conflict. If anything he had had a decent day. He had surely had worse days. The day he encountered Quirrell on his hunt for the stone, the day that a house elf tried to save his life, the day he decided to follow the spiders, the day he met Tom Riddle, battled the basilisk and saved Ginny, the day he found out Sirius Black was his godfather (before he knew the truth of course), the day he nearly got mauled by a werewolf, the day he got his name drawn from the goblet of fire, all the challenges in the triwizard tournament, the day he saw Cedric die, saw the dark lord rise, found out his teacher was an imposter who was trying to kill him, and realized no one believed him about Voldemort (that had been a busy day), the whole summer everyone ignored him, the day he got expelled from Hogwarts, the year that the entire wizarding world had turned on him (the first time)… well it can just be said that he had a lot of worse days, now that he thought about it…

That evening when he when he put his pajamas on he couldn't help but smile, he figured that once he fell asleep in the dream, he would wake up again in real life. He could wake up next to Ginny and tell her all about the strange dream he had, and then they could go to the zoo, maybe they could take his bike. That would be nice.

These were the things Harry Potter thought as he fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N If there are any spelling, grammar or canon errors, please let me know. Have a nice day. _

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When Harry woke up the next morning, he was still in his cupboard under the stairs, he was still in his ten year old body, he was still in his worn out clothes and broken glasses. Worst of all though, he was still without all of the people he liked, and wanted to be around. He seemed to be stuck back at number 4 Privet Drive, and no matter how many times he pinched himself, or splashed himself with cold water, or went to sleep and woke up again he didn't want to wake from the dream, which seemed to be turning into a nightmare. He had nearly forgotten just how terrible the Dursleys had been. Dudley seemed to think of him as his personal punching bag, and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon went between completely ignoring him and using him as some wizards used house elves.

This went on well into the summer.

One morning Harry went into the kitchen, and was bombarded by a terrible smell. He went over to the source, which was a large wash tub in the sink, full of clothing bits in murky water.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Your new school uniform. I'm dying some of Dudley's old things grey for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished. " Aunt Petunia said, looking displeased with him for some unknown reason.

"Oh," he said. He didn't want to break it to her that he wasn't going to need the soggy rags which were supposed to be a uniform to Stonewall High, which was the local school the Dursleys assumed Harry was going to be attending the next year.

He went and sat at the table, wondering when his letter was going to come. It had to be any day now.

Uncle Vernon and Dudley came in and sat at the table, making a face due to the horrible smell coming from the sink.

There was the sound of the mail slot opening, letters falling through, and hitting the door mat.

"Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon, as he looked through the paper he had just opened.

"Make Harry get it." Dudley whined.

"Get the mail, Harry." Uncle Vernon said, not looking up from the paper.

Harry complied. He got up, and went to collect the mail.

There was a postcard from Marge, a bill for something, and low and behold a letter for Harry.

He weighed his options this time around. It would be a bit redundant to go through the whole tidal wave of letters, hundreds of owls in muggle suburbs, running off to some God forsaken island, thing that he had gone through last time, so he simply opened the letter then and there.

"Hurry up, boy! What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" Uncle Vernon shouted from the kitchen.

"Just a sec!" Harry shouted back, pulling the letter out and reading it:

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Excellent, he took his letter and walked into the kitchen. He put the other things in front of Uncle Vernon, and sat down at the table, trying to remain as calm as possible.

Uncle Vernon opened the envelope, read the contents and tossed it aside, before reading the post card.

"Marge's ill," he said, "Ate a funny whelk…"

"Dad!" Dudley said suddenly, "Dad, Harry's got something!"

Uncle Vernon went to snatch the letter from him, but Harry moved it away too quickly.

"I have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Harry said, trying really hard not to grin. Uncle Vernon had turned a horrible shade of purple, while Aunt Petunia had turned nearly white.

"What a load of rubbish." Uncle Vernon said.

"So I'm not a wizard?" Harry directed this question to Aunt Petunia, there had to be some hidden compassion for her sister in there somewhere. Some slight inkling to tell the truth.

"No. You aren't. There's no such thing as magic." She said, but the flicker of doubt crossed her face for just one second.

"Then why would they send me a letter?" Harry asked, trying to sound innocent. "What is it you're not telling me?" Harry was trying not to enjoy this too much, but that was very hard given the circumstances.

"I forbid you to tell him!" Uncle Vernon shouted at Aunt Petunia, even though she didn't look as though she was about to say anything.

"Tell me what? That I'm a wizard?"

"No. That's a load of rubbish!" Uncle Vernon spat.

"Then why do strange things always happen to me? Things that don't happen to other people? Like that time my hair grew back, as if by magic."

"Because you are a little freak like your parents were, that's why!" That was Aunt Petunia's moment to speak.

"They were magic too, weren't they?" Harry said, more than asked.

"THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC!" Uncle Vernon bellowed. He go up, and grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt, tearing the letter from his hands.

"Hey! That's mine!" Harry said, grabbing for the letter, but he was a lot smaller than Vernon Dursley so it was no use. The man, who was now a terrible shade of purple, marched Harry over to the cupboard under the stairs.

"Go- Cupboard- Stay- No meals!" was all the man seemed to be able to say.

Harry went into the cupboard, not wanting more of a fight than he had already gotten himself into. Uncle Vernon slammed the door, and from the sounds of his footsteps went back into the kitchen.

He sat down on his bed and sighed, that could have gone better.

Why was this happening to him? Why was he living all of this over again? Just when everything seemed to have begun to work in his favor, and he had his life nearly together, he gets thrown right back into one of the worst times of his life. He missed his friends, and his flat, and having magic, and being able to reach things on the top shelf, and looking like an adult, and Ginny… most of all Ginny. What if it all had been a dream? What if this was really his life, and the last ten years had just been a crazy dream?

Then why the Hogwarts letter? This has to be the dream. Maybe both the life he was in, and his adult life were a dream, and he's actually really old, and these are just flash backs… Why did everything need to be so complicated?

He wanted Ginny. She would know… She always knew…


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Feel free to review. You can tell me the dress looks fat, I'm asking your honest opinion. And thank you to all the people who seem to want to read this. This story was intended to just piss of my friend who hates time travel fics, but you people seem to like it, so thanks, you are lovely._

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Harry had never really believed that history repeated itself, but as he lied awake counting down the hours to his eleventh birthday for the second time, he lost any shred of remaining faith in that theory.

It was five minutes until he turned eleven, according to the watch Dudley was wearing. If memory served him right, it was also about five minutes until Hagrid was going to show up, and whisk him off to introduce him to the magical world.

He listened to the storm that was raging outside, and couldn't help but wonder how it was that Hagrid had gotten there. If he had flown, it would have been one terrible ride. The rain was pounding onto the roof of the shack, and the wind and crash of the sea made their terrifying music just outside the door.

Two minutes until Harry's second eleventh birthday. Why had Hagrid decided to come at midnight? Was it for dramatic effect? Wizards did have more of a flair for the dramatic than they did for the practical, but he didn't see any reason why Hagrid couldn't have shown up one afternoon, and stayed for tea.

One minute to go, and Harry began to worry. What if Hagrid didn't come this time? So far everything seemed to go as it had the first time around (except the things he changed purposefully), but who was to say that this may be when things started to diverge. Maybe this was the point in time, when he could go back to his old life? Maybe he was only meant to live like this until his eleventh birthday?

Ten… He got ready, for what he hoped was a trip home… Nine, Eight, Seven, Six… he bunched his eyes closed, hoping that when he opened them he would be home… Five, Four, Three… Almost there… Two, One.

Harry kept his eyes closed, but he could still hear the storm outside. He was still in the shack. And right on cue- BOOM! There was a knock at the door.

Harry got up to get it.

"Where's the cannon?" Dudley asked.

BOOM! There was another knock before Harry could open it. He swung the door open, to see Hagrid standing there.

"Hello," Harry said, "Won't you come in?"

"Thank you," Hagrid said as he walked into the shack, closing the door behind him.

"Who's there!" Uncle Vernon shouted as he came into the room holding a rifle, "I warn you- I'm armed!"

Uncle Vernon stopped as he spotted Hagrid standing there.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey…" Hagrid said as he looked at the Dursleys. He went over to where Dudley was sitting, "Budge over, yeh great lump," he said to the boy who was shaking with fright.

Dudley did budge, to go and run over to cower behind his parents.

"An' here's Harry!" Hagrid looked at Harry and smiled, "Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby. Yeh look like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mom's eyes."

And so it would begin. He had heard those words so many times that he had almost grown to resent them.

"I demand you leave at once, sir!" said Uncle Vernon, in a rare moment of bravery, "You're breaking and entering!"

Hagrid took the gun from Vernon Dursley's hand, twisted it into a pretzel, and tossed it across the room, "Ah, shut up Dursley, yeh great prune."

Uncle Vernon's moment of courage seemed to pass, as he let out a rather sad sound. Harry felt a sort of satisfaction from seeing Uncle Vernon loose a battle, as small as it was.

Hagrid turned back to Harry, "Anyways- Harry, a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here-" he pulled a squished box from his coat pocket, "I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

Harry took the box, and opened it. He smiled as he saw the cake inside.

"Thank you, H-" he had to stop himself. This man was still a stranger to him.

"It's no trouble, Harry." Hagrid said.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, unable to think of a better way to phrase it.

"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." The man said, as he held out his large hand for Harry to shake. After they shook, Hagrid looked around, "What about that tea then, eh? I'd not say no ter sommat stronger if yeh've got it, mind."

Harry had to try hard not to grin. This night was even better the second time around. He watched as the man bent over the fireplace, obviously casted a spell, and moved away again, as though it were nothing. The fire did seriously improve the atmosphere of the shack, and the temperature. Out of his coat Hagrid pulled out a kettle and all the fixings making tea.

"Don't touch anything he gives you, Dudley." Uncle Vernon said as Dudley began to eye the food Hagrid had just pulled out.

"Yer great puddin' of a son don' need fattenin' anymore, Dursley, don' worry." Hagrid said. Harry had to try very hard to contain his laughter.

The giant man gave Harry some sausage links, which Harry gladly took. The food since they had been outrunning the post had been less than ideal, and he welcomed the opportunity to eat.

"So you are from Hogwarts?" Harry asked, wanting to get this whole scene over with, so that he could leave the Dursleys.

"Yes, yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course." Hagrid said.

Harry weighed his options here. He could play dumb, and 'find out' all the things he already knew, or he could just try to act as casual as possible while telling them he knew everything. The problem with that option being that there was no way, at this point, that he would have had even the slightest clue about the truth, other than what he had learned from the letter he had gotten back at Privet Drive. Since it was easier to act surprised than to explain his omniscient knowledge he decided to play along.

"Er, - no. Sorry" he said.

Hagrid shot the Dursleys a look, "Sorry? It's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't getting' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?"

"All what?" Harry asked, innocently.

Hagrid looked absolutely furious, which was actually rather frightening, "ALL WHAT? Now jus' one second! Do you mean ter tell me, that this boy- this boy!- Knows nothin' abou- about ANYTHING?"

"I know that Hogwarts is a school…"

Hagrid shook his head, "That's all you know bout our world?"

Harry made his best confused face, "What world?"

"DURSLEY!" Hagrid bellowed. He mumbled something which Harry couldn't quite catch, "But yeh must know about yer mom and dad, I mean, they're famous. You're famous."

"My parents were famous? They couldn't have…" Harry said. Harry thought about how he seemed to only get more famous after this point. After he had defeated Voldemort a second time, he had received so much media attention he had taken Ginny and they had gone on an extended vacation to France. The attention the eleven year old him received was nothing.

"Yeh don' know… yeh don' know… Yeh don' know what yeh are?" Hagrid shook his great head.

Uncle Vernon seemed to remember he could talk, "Stop! Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the boy anything!"

"Tell me what?" Harry asked.

"You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter Dumbledore left for him? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from him all these years?" Hagrid said.

"Kept what from me?" Harry asked.

Uncle Vernon looked furious, "STOP! I FORBID YOU!"

"Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh." Hagrid growled at the Dursleys before turning to Harry, "Harry- yer a wizard."

"So I am a wizard?" It was hard not to burst out laughing.

"O' course, an' a thumpin' good'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter." Hagrid said, reaching into his coat, and pulling out a letter. He handed it to Harry, who read it. He had been accepted to Hogwarts, he needed to send and owl, the usual.

"I need to send an owl?" Harry asked.

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me" Hagrid said as he took some parchment and an owl out of his coat pocket. Why Hagrid was keeping an owl in his pocket Harry couldn't quite understand. The giant man wrote a message on the parchment and gave it to the owl, before throwing the poor bird out into the storm. Hagrid looked back at them, "Where was I?"

"He's not going." Uncle Vernon said, as though he had any authority.

"I'd like to see a great muggle like you stop him." Hagrid said.

Uncle Vernon looked Harry with utter disgust, "We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to that rubbish, swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!"

Harry felt the anger bubble up in him. Why did this man hate him so much? He understood Aunt Petunia's resentment towards him, but what had he ever done to his uncle. This man had neglected and abused him for nearly ten years, and for what reason? Was it just because he was different? Because Harry had one thing that he didn't? He clenched his fists, "Is that why you locked me in the cupboard, and kept me in the dark about everything? You knew I was a wizard, you knew -" He had to stop himself before he gave away too much. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

Aunt Petunia gave him a spiteful look, "Knew!" She said, her voice filled with resent, "Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that- that school- and came home every vacation with her pockets fill of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was- a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this, and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family! Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as- as- abnormal- and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

Harry gave her a look that nearly matched the one she was giving him, "She was your sister! She couldn't help being magical! You lied to me. You told me they died in a car crash."

Now it was Hagrid's turn to get mad at the Dursleys, "CAR CRASH! How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin' his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!"

"They haven't told me anything." Harry said, surprised by how angry he was. He wasn't this angry the last time, he hadn't known the whole story then, and he had probably been too shocked. This time, though, he knew all that his parents had gone through, all that everyone had gone through in the first war, and the fact that these two just say his parents as freaks ate away at his composure.

"I never expected this," Hagrid said, looking at Harry uncertainly, "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much you didn't know. Ah, Harry, I don' know if I'm the right person to tell yeh- but someone's gotta- yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'. Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh- mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it… It begins, I suppose, with- with a person called- but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows-_" The man looked very uncomfortable. Harry wanted to tell him that it was okay, that he understood, because by God did he ever understand, but he knew if he did that he would have to work very hard to try and cover-up for his knowing.

"Who is it? Why can't you just say the name?" Harry asked.

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went… bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name is…" Hagrid shifted uncomfortably, he looked as though he was trying to make words come out, but none were.

"Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself..." Harry said, half to himself.

Hagrid let out a great sigh, "All right- Voldemort." He said it as though it were the foulest word he could think of, "Don't make me say it again. Anyway, this,- this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got em too- some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was getting' himself power, all right. Dark days, Harry."

Harry felt an odd twinge. He remembered the dark days. Not the one's Hagrid was talking about, but the one's he hoped this Hagrid would never have to see.

"Didn't know who to trust," the giant man continued, " didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches… terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him- 'an he killed 'em. Horribly."

Harry's chest tightened. He still had trouble thinking of all of those who had died because of him. He would still wake up some nights drenched in sweat and trembling, with the images of his dead friends in his mind. None of them deserve to die, not like they did, not so young.

"One o' the safest places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school."

Harry felt the bitter laughter bubble up inside him, but he forced it down.

"Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day!"

Thinking about it now, Harry couldn't help but wondering why on earth they had made his father head boy. Wasn't he one of the Marauders? Who makes a Marauder the head boy? Though he remembered having heard that Lupin had been a prefect. Dear God, that was a bad move on Dumbledore's part.

"Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before… probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side. Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em… maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an'- an'-"

Hagrid pulled a large handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose.

"Voldemort killed them?" Harry asked, "Why didn't he kill me too?"

The look on the giant man's face was a cross between shock at the use of the name, and sadness over the story. "That's the real myst'ry o' the thing- he tried to kill you, too. He couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead?"

"He tried to kill me, and all I got was this?" Harry said, he touched his scar lightly.

"That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh- took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even- but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Harry. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age- the McKinnons,"

_Original Order members_, Harry thought.

"-the Bones,"

Susan Bones' family. Edger was in the original Order too, if memory served him right.

"-Prewetts,"

Mrs. Weasley's family… Her brothers, they were twins like Fred and George had been. Before Fred…

"-an' you was only a baby, an' you lived."

Twice… The ever present survivors guilt was running through his mind, intensifying with every name he added to the list in his head of people who had died while he survived. Neither can live while the other survives… He survived, but some days it was hard for him to live. Some days, he could hardly bring himself to get out of bed. Some days Ginny would need to practically drag him out of bed.

Hagrid was giving him a sad look, "Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh to this lot…"

"Load of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon. Over the course of the story, he seemed to have gathered himself, and was now looking angrily at Hagrid. "Now listen here, boy, I accept there's something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured- and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdoes, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion- asked for all they go, getting mixed up with these wizarding types-"

Harry stood up and went over to his Uncle, he was a lot smaller than him, he realized when he got there, but at that point he was too mad to care, "Haven't you been listening! Do you ever listen? Or is that too strange for you!"

"Boy, I'm warning you!" Uncle Vernon glared daggers at him.

"What are you going to do? Give me that beating that will cure me?" Harry said, he felt anger mix with the guilt and the sadness that was already welled up in him.

"Maybe I will, you will finally get what's coming to you, you-"

"I'm warning you, Dursley-" Hagrid had gotten up off the couch and was now pointing his pink umbrella at Uncle Vernon, "I'm warning you- one more word…"

Uncle Vernon backed down immediately, though Harry still had to fight the urge to punch him. Though he wasn't sure how much good that would do, he was still only in his recently eleven year old body.

"That's better," Hagrid said as Uncle Vernon flattened himself against a wall.

Harry was still filled will hot anger, "Why didn't you ever tell me this? What were you afraid of?"

Uncle Vernon looked a bit shocked; no one ever seemed to question his motives.

"Were you afraid I would turn Dudley into a frog or something?" Harry watched his uncle get angrier.

"You ungrateful little-" he grabbed Harry's arm, his sausage like fingers gripping him with enough force to bruise.

"Dursley!" Hagrid bellowed, pointing his umbrella at the man again.

Uncle Vernon backed away instantly. Harry moved across the room from his uncle, not wanting to be too near him. Why had they lied to him? What did they gain from that? Harry couldn't quite figure it out, even after everything, he still couldn't justify most of the things his aunt and uncle had done. He needed to leave them; he couldn't keep living with them like he had the first time around. He would need to do something, but what?

"When do we get to go?" Harry asked, wanting out of the shack as soon as human possible.

"Haven't I told you you're not going?" Uncle Vernon hissed, more bold than he probably should have been, "You will go to Stonewall High, and you'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and he needs all sort of rubbish- spell books and wands and-"

"If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop him. Stop Lily an' James Potter's son goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. His name's been down ever since he was born. He's off to the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won't know himself." Hagrid said.

Seven years of Hogwarts had changed him… well six, but that was beside the point. In seven years he had not only changed, but the whole wizarding world had changed too. Maybe if he got seven years of Hogwarts again, he would be able to make it better. Maybe this time more than one innocent life could be sparred…

Hagrid continued, "He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an' he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled-"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!" Yelled Uncle Vernon.

Hagrid was up in less than a second, umbrella in hand, "NEVER- INSULT- ALBUS- DUMBLEDORE- IN- FRONT- OF- ME!" he bellowed. The umbrella swished through the air and pointed at Dudley. There was the flash of a spell being cast, and a sequel from Dudley. It was even better this time than the last, Dudley hollering and holding his bottom while he danced around the shack, and then Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon panicked and took the squealing boy into the other room and slamming the door. Harry couldn't help but smile.

Hagrid looked at the umbrella for a moment, "Shouldn't lost me temper, but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do. Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts. I'm- er- not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'."

"I won't tell anyone," Harry said, knowing that even if he did tell Dumbledore there would be very minimal consequences for Hagrid, but it was best not to test that.

Hagrid gave him a nod, "Well, it's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow. Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that." He took off his large coat and gave it to Harry.

"You can kip under that. Don't mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets." He said, and Harry couldn't help but smile.

He was going to save wizard kind again, only he was going to do a better job of it, and it all started with him getting back to Hogwarts. This was just the beginning of the greatest story in wizard history.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: This is a shot one. It diverges away form the canon a bit more in this chapter than the last one, which I want to apologize for. It was more of less 85% the same as the original, but it sort of needed to be. I hope you like this chapter, though, so without further ado, I present Chapter 4._

_._

The next morning they left the shack, stealing the Dursleys boat, and leaving them stranded back on the island. Harry hadn't realized that the first time, and he couldn't help but wonder how they had managed to get back.

They took the train to London. Hagrid gave Harry any necessary information, some of which Harry knew wasn't entirely true. He had to keep reminding himself that it was what people thought at the time. Overall, though, the journey was a pleasant one.

When they got to the Leaky Cauldron Harry had to deal with many enthusiastic people, who seemed more enthusiastic than nearly anyone he seemed to meet after that. He also met his future defense against the dark arts professor, Quirrell. It was odd to shake hands with the man, knowing what his hands would eventually do to the man.

The trip through Gringotts was fairly uneventful. Griphook lead them as they picked up Harry's money, and the philosophers stone, before going back out into Diagon Alley. Harry couldn't help but smirk a little, as he always did, at the inscription on the bank's door:

_Enter stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours, _

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there. _

And to think that he would need to break in again…

"Might as well get yer uniform," Hagrid said as they stepped out into the sun.

"Why don't you go and get a drink, and I can meet up with you afterwards?" Harry suggested, looking at the rather queasy giant. It seemed Hagrid didn't agree with the Gringotts carts much, so he went off to get a drink, leaving Harry to go into Madam Malkin's alone.

Madam Milkin came over to him when he entered, "Hogwarts, dear?"

"Yes, please," Harry said.

"Got the lot here- another young man being fitted up just now, in fact," She said as she lead him into the back of the shop where none other than Draco Malfoy was being fitted.

Harry began to get fitted too. Draco looked over at him, he was just a little boy, it really made Harry feel uneasy.

"Hello," Draco said, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," Harry said.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands,then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms." The young Draco sounded more enthusiastic than Harry ever remembers him sounding, "I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

"You can put an undetectable extension charm on your trunk?" Harry suggested.

"Would that work?" Draco asked.

"It should," Harry shrugged.

"Have you got your own broom?"

"Not yet." Harry said. Though really it was more no anymore, but he didn't want to get into it.

"Play Quidditch at all?" the blonde boy asked.

"Yeah, I play seeker." Harry said, though he wasn't sure how he did without a broom. Luckily Draco didn't seem to notice, "Me too- Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house team, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No one really knows, do they?" Harry said, nonchalantly.

"I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been- imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" Draco said, pompously. It's unfortunate that it took having lived with Voldemort, having been disliked by both sides in a war, and eventually have his family turn against their cause for him to become even a remotely decent person. Back in the future, he was civil with his former nemesis, but this could be his chance to not be his nemesis in the first place. Maybe this time they could have a civil relationship right from the start.

"Friendship and Loyalty don't sound too bad do that?" Harry said with a shrug.

"I guess not… At least I know I won't be one of them." Draco said. Harry doubted Draco realized that his first cousin was a Hufflepuff, but he didn't want to bring that up. "Where are your parents?" the blonde boy asked.

"They're dead," Harry said, simply.

"Oh, sorry, but they were out kind, weren't they?" he did not sound the least bit sorry. Harry felt a bit unimpressed with the emphasis on blood purity, but for the sake of being civil he answered, "Yeah, they were a witch and a wizard, if that's what you mean."

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, I imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname anyway?"

"Potter," he said, there was no point in denying it.

"Really?" Draco looked at him. He pulled his hair away from his forehead to show the other boy his scar.

"My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

"Nice to meet you," Harry said.

Before Draco could say anything, Madam Milkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry hopped down.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the blonde boy.

"Definitely," Harry said as he left the boy to finish getting fitted, even though Draco had been there before he was.

Harry found Hagrid, and they finished off his school shopping. He got Hedwig as a birthday present from Hagrid, which was probably the first birthday present he ever received the first time around, and he was just as grateful this time. As he stroked his new owl's feathers, he remembered the old Hedwig, poor bird… But he didn't dwell, he still had to get a wand. He got the same wand he had gotten last time; eleven inches, holly, phoenix feather. It felt good to have his wand back; it was like a long lost friend that he had been separated from for too long.

Unfortunately, that evening Harry was sitting on a train back to the Dursleys'. The first of September wasn't that far away, was it? Only… thirty two days away… but this time Harry wanted to make sure this was the last time he would go back to the Dursleys'. He had a plan.

.

It was late, and the Dursley house was quiet. Harry could only assume that his aunt and uncle were asleep, and took this opportunity to become reunited with his wand.

He non-verbally cast a lumos charm, wondering why it was that underage wizards seemed to be able to cast that one spell without consequence.

He took out a muggle pen (really they were much more practical than quills) and a piece of parchment.

On it he wrote eleven names; Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Moody, Lupin, Tonks, Ted Tonks, Fred, Colin Creevey, Snape and Dobby.

This was the list of people whose life he had to save. And he hoped that if he played his cards right that he could save all the other lives that were lost in the battle and the war, before either started.

A little further down the page he made another list; diary, locket, Nagini, diadem, cup, ring, me. He needed to find as many of the horcruxes as he could, as quickly as he could, and destroy them before Voldemort could come back to power… again.

At least that was the plan. How hard could it be, really? He had already done it all once before, but this time he would do it right. He would save everyone, all on his own this time. Everyone would be children, and he couldn't put them into danger like that, again.

He folded the parchment and put it beside his bed. He took his glasses off, and they joined the parchment before he mumbled a quiet "nox" and went off to sleep, dreaming of the era of peace that he was going to create.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: You all are wonderful. I hope you all enjoy. Feel free to tell me what you think, and if you commented and I didn't respond I'm sorry, I do appreciate it, really. _

.

Uncle Vernon abandoned him at King's Cross on September 1st, driving away without making sure Harry got to the platform, or the train, or anything of the sort. Harry smirked a little as he watched the Dursleys pull away from the station, laughing, thinking that they had stranded him alone and unable to defend himself. He took a moment to revel in smug satisfaction. Then he heard, "- packed with Muggles, of course-" and he looked over to see the Weasley family coming up to the barrier.

Harry started to walk over to them pushing his trunk, but he stopped dead, when he realized two things. Firstly, Fred was standing there, alive and grinning, Harry wanted to go run over and hug him… In the manliest way imaginable, though he thought that would be a terrible idea, seeing as he didn't know the Weasleys in this time yet. The second thing he realized was that the little redhead girl who was holding Molly's hand was little ten year old Ginny. She was so… Small and innocent looking. To think that she would eventually be one of the fiercest women that Harry knew was a bit surreal. To think that the last time he had seen her he was lying in her arms in their bed just as he fell asleep.

"Mom, can't I go…" the young Ginny said.

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first." Molly said. She looked younger, and more filled out. After the war, she had had a tough time. She had watched her children go to war, and had to bury one. She had to bury a lot of people she cared about, and it seemed to hit her hard. She was probably the strongest woman Harry knew (other than probably McGonagall), but her greatest fear had become a reality. For about a year after the war she would try to spend as much time with not just her children, but also their girlfriends, Harry, and little Teddy. Teddy had spent so much time with the Weasleys that he had decided that he wanted red hair too, and he had kept it red for quite a long time. It made Harry a bit sad to realize that Teddy didn't exist anymore, not in this time at least.

He was brought back to reality by the twin Harry was almost certain was George said, "Only joking, I am Fred," before running through the barrier.

Harry walked over to the family, his future family. "Excuse me," he said.

"Hello dear. First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new too." Molly said, gesturing to the young Ron. He was rather silly looking as a child.

"Do you just run at the wall?" Harry asked.

"Yes, just don't stop and don't be scared, you'll crash into it, that's very important. It's best to do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron." She said, pushing Harry towards the barrier. He ended up on the platform, as was to be expected.

He walked down the platform, looking at all the younger versions of the people he would grow to know.

Young Neville was telling his Gran that he had lost his toad and Lee Jordan was showing off… something that he was keeping in a little box. They were so happy looking.

Harry went down to an empty compartment and started trying to get his trunk in. He hated being in such a small wimpy body. He hated being short, he hated being skinny, he hated being-

"Want a hand?" one of the Weasley twins asked him.

"Yes please," Harry said, a bit out of breath.

"Oy Fred! C'mere and help!" George called.

The two of them helped him to get his trunk into a compartment.

"Thanks a lot," Harry said, feeling slightly embarrassed that he needed the help in the first place.

"What's that?" Fred said, pointing at Harry's scar, which he just seemed to notice.

"Blimey, are you-" George asked.

"He is. Aren't you?" Fred asked, starring at the scar.

"Harry Potter? Yeah, I am." Harry said, casually, "Who are you?"

"I'm Fred."

"I'm George."

"Nice to meet you," Harry said.

"You too," they chorused, grinning.

"Fred? George? Are you there?" Molly called.

"Coming Mom." They said before hopping off the train.

Harry sat down next to the window. He couldn't help but watch the Weasley family. Molly was wiping dirt form Ron's face, Fred and George were mocking him, Percy was looking smug in his prefect badge, Molly warning them all to behave, Fred and George telling them all how great it was to meet _the Harry Potter_, Ginny wanting to go up and meet him (if only little Ginny knew), Molly telling them to not gawk at him and kissing them all goodbye, and Ginny crying because she wanted to go too as the train began to pull out of the station.

After a minute the compartment door slid open, and Ron came in.

"Anyone sitting there? Everywhere else is full." He said.

"Go ahead." Harry smiled at him, trying to ignore the fact his eleven year old best friend was gawking at him.

The twins poked their heads in the compartment, "Hey, Ron. Listen we're going down to the middle of the train- Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," said Ron.

"Harry, did he introduce himself? This is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

"Bye," Harry and Ron said, and the twins were gone.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron asked.

"Last I checked."

"Oh- well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes. And have you really got- you know…" He pointed to Harry's forehead.

"The scar?" he pulled his hair back.

"So, that's where You-Know-Who-?"

"Yeah…" said Harry.

"Do you remember it?" Ron asked, eagerly.

"Well, I remember a lot of green light and Voldemort-"

Ron let out a gasp, "You said-"

"Voldemort? Yeah, why shouldn't I?" Harry asked.

"Well it's supposed to be cursed…" Ron said, looking a little shocked still.

"But if he's gone, what does it matter if you say his name? Being afraid of a name won't do you any good, will it?" he go a bit of amusement from the look on Ron's face.

"Well… I guess, but I don't want to say it."

"Then don't," Harry shrugged.

"So you remember You-Know-Who?" Ron asked.

"Yeah," Harry said. He remembered him a little too well.

"Were you scarred?" Ron was gawking at him.

"I don't really remember. I just remember a lot of green, and then _him._" Harry said truthfully.

"Wow." the boy said, staring at Harry. "I heard you went to live with Muggles. What are they like?"

"The one's I was staying with were pretty horrible, but most aren't that bad. I wish I could have a wizard family." _Again_

Ron looked gloomy, "Not mine. I'm the sixth in the family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left- Bill was head boy, Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached into his jacket and pulled out the sleeping Peter Pettigrew. Harry wanted to grab the rat and throw it out of the fast moving train, but he knew that doing that would raise a lot more fuss than he wanted.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made prefect, but they couldn't aff- I mean, I got Scabbers instead." Ron's ears went their trademark shade of red. If only he knew how brilliant he would end up being. If only he could see his future self…

They talked until the trolley witch came by. Harry found it a bit weird to talk to Ron as an eleven year old, he was so… childish. A few times Harry would wince because Ron would say something that no one over the age of eleven should say. But it was Ron, right? It was the same man he was friends with, just younger.

Harry bought the both of them enough sweets for the trip, and they began to munch away. They had a good enough time with the chocolate frog cards, and the Bertie Botts.

As Harry ate a sketchy looking grey bean (pepper flavoured), there was a knock at the door of their compartment. The young Neville poked his head in, looking rather upset, "Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?"

"Sorry, can't say I have." Harry said.

"I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up."

"Yes, well if you see him…" Neville sulked away.

"Don't know why he's so bothered. If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk." Ron looked at the rat on his lap, "He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference. I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look…"

Ron rummaged through his things, eventually pulling out his wand. He pointed it at the pathetic animal as the door slid open. Neville and Hermione were standing there. Harry had forgotten how ugly Hermione had been, and the sight of her took him aback a bit. She had grown too be quite attractive. A bit of an ugly duckling case, he figured.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," Hermione said.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, not that Hermione was listening; she was much more interested in the wand he was holding.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." She sat down, looking at Ron.

"Er- all right." He looked very unsure, he waved his wand, "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

Unfortunately nothing happened. Scabbers lied there, unchanged.

Hermione spoke up, "Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good, is it?"

"Did Fred and George teach you that spell?" Harry asked.

"Yeah…" Ron's ears were pink again.

"Why not try multicorfors?" Harry suggested, "Just say it, and think yellow."

"Will it work?" Ron asked.

"I've learned all our course books by heart, and that wasn't one of the spells we need to know." Hermione said.

"Why not give it a try?" Harry suggested.

"Alright- multicorfors," Ron said, and Scabbers tail turned a bright sunshine yellow colour.

"See, you've got it… mostly." Neville said, still standing in the doorway.

"He's still only a bit yellow," Ron said, sounding a bit disappointed.

"More yellow than he was to start, isn't he?" Harry said. He wanted to help Ron out, maybe if he got some more self-confidence he could realize how great he really was.

"Yeah, he is." Ron said.

"What's your name?" Hermione asked Harry specifically.

"Harry Potter. What's yours?" Harry said.

"Hermione Granger. And I know all about you, of course- I got a few extra books for background reading- nobody in my family's magic at all- and you're in _Modern Magical History _and_ Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts _and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century._"

"Oh, okay," Harry wasn't sure how to respond to her. When did Hermione get less… Annoying?

"Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best: I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad… Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon." She left with Neville in tow, shutting the compartment door behind them.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron. He looked down at his still mostly grey rat, "Thanks for the spell, by the way. George gave me the other one, bet he knew it was a dud."

"No problem. What house do you want to be in?" Harry asked.

"Not Gryffindor anymore. My whole family's been in it, I don't know what Mon and Dad'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin." Ron said, slumping down. Why was he concerned? His family were some of the most accepting people that Harry had ever known. It's not as though Ron was a Malfoy. He wondered why it was that certain families all got put into certain families. Was it something ingrained into them? His parents had been Gryffindors, he was a Gryffindor. He would have to look into it.

The rest of the train ride was spent talking about Quidditch. Harry had a hard time not mentioning the 2001 world cup which he and Ginny had gone to, or the legendary match in 1999 when the Chudley Cannons actually won… because the other team's seeker got knocked out, but it was still legendary. He realized he knew none of the 1990- 1991 team stats, and so he found himself asking a lot of the same questions he probably would have asked the first time around.

A while later Hermione came back in.

"Can we help you with something?" Ron asked.

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there." She said, sounding very official.

Ron scowled at her, "Would you mind leaving while we change?"

"All right- I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," she said, "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

And with that she left. They changed into their robes, and Ron seemed to get exponentially more nervous. Harry figured he should be more nervous too, but it hadn't hit him yet. Maybe after the sorting it would sink in?

They filed out of the train when it got to Hogsmead station, and followed Hagrid as he took them down a dark path towards the lake. When Harry caught sight of Hogwarts he couldn't help but smile. The castle stood up on the hill, as it always had, but this time it seemed all the more magical. Maybe it was because he was seeing it surrounded by people who were in sheer awe at the sight of their future home. His old home.

He climbed into a boat with Ron, Hermione and Neville, and the four of them sat in silence, taking in the view of the castle at night. It wasn't a view you got to see often, even when living in the castle. You really only saw it once, on your very first day, and maybe that was what was so magical about it.


	6. Chapter 6

****_A/N: After getting shit for copying the book, I pretty much winged this whole chapter. It follows the arch of the scene vaguely, but all dialogue (except maybe two lines) is totally original, and all the boring stuff that goes in between is all mine. If anyone was wondering why the first 5 chapters were like 80% me re-typing the book, I was just trying to set the scene If you will. I know that what I did was wrong, and I wrote this in the corner of shame to make up for it. _

_I hope you like it more than I do. _

_._

The first years were led by Hagrid to Professor McGonagall. She explained that there were four houses, and that they would be sorted, and their house would be their family, and other such things. She then departed, leaving the first years to wait for her to return, and the sorting ceremony to begin.

Harry turned to talk to Neville, and saw that he looked like a bit of a nervous wreck.

"Your cloak's a little crooked," Harry said.

Neville looked down, "Oh, thanks."

He straightened out his cloak, which previously had been fastened just below his left ear.

"You're name's Neville, right?"

Neville looked vaguely uncomfortable, "Yeah. Neville Longbottom."

"It's nice to meet you," Harry smiled at the boy, who returned the gesture nervously.

"What house do you want to be in?" he asked Neville.

"Well, I'd like to be in Gryffindor, but, I'll probably end up in Hufflepuff." He didn't looked too pleased by that thought, "What about you?"

"I think I want to be in Gryffindor too, though Hufflepuff doesn't sound too bad."

Neville looked unsure, "I guess not."

Suddenly several of the people behind them screamed, making Neville jump and make a silly noise. Harry whirled around, and came face to face with the Hogwarts ghosts, who seemed to be arguing about Peeves until they noticed the group of terrified first years.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, "About to be sorted, I suppose? I hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

Just then McGonagall reappeared, "Move along now, the Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

She got them into a line, and lead them into the Great Hall.

All of the first years gawked at the splendor of the hall, and Harry couldn't help but agree. It was beautiful, with thousands of candles hanging under the starlit sky. It really was quite impressive.

The first years were lined up at the front of the hall, giving Harry an excellent vantage point to look at everyone in the hall. He recognized some faces. Maybe he could get to know more people. He had always had a relatively small group of friends, maybe he could branch out. He was mentally a lot closer to a seventh year than a first, maybe he could make some older friends. But how would he go about that? Most seventeen year olds could care less about talking to an eleven year old, even if he was Harry Potter.

The sorting hat sang its song, the crowd burst into applauds, and the hat bowed to each of the four house tables in turn before McGonagall stepped forward with a large roll of parchment. She went alphabetically.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

Harry couldn't help but smile a little; she would end up dating Neville. If he stared up the DA again this time, he would have to recruit her, she was pretty good. Harry began to think about as he watched several former DA members get sorted, should he start up the DA again? Would he need to if he managed to destroy Voldemort before he came back to power? Maybe no in first year, not even first years would trust one of their own for training tips.

"Potter, Harry!" McGonagall called.

The room filled with whispers as Harry walked over to the stool which made him feel oddly self-conscious. He sighed, knowing he really should be used to it. The hat was placed on his head, and it was a second before he heard the hats voice.

"Hmm," it said, "I see I have sorted you before."

_Do you remember that? _

"No, but I see it in your mind- This is curious,"

_I don't really understand it either…_

"I can see you will do well in Gryffindor- you have proven that, but I still feel you would excel in Slytherin."

_But the sword of Gryffindor presented itself to me. It will only do that for a true Gryffindor. You can see the great things I can do in Gryffindor. You can see that I will have friends, and that I will belong there._

"This is a different time. I can see you plan to change your destiny."

_Not Slytherin, not Slytherin. If it worked once, it can work again. _

"Well, if you're sure- better be GRYFFINDOR!"

"Thank you," Harry said to the hat as he took it off, and walked towards the Gryffindor table. He sat down and watched Dean Thomas, Lisa Turpin (whoever she was), Ron and Blaise Zambini get sorted.

After a rather odd speech from Dumbledore, which consisted of him shouting, "Nitwit! Blumber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" the feast began.

Harry began to wonder if Dumbledore was always that batty, or if Harry only had memories of him being in moments of crisis when the old man had to rein in his batty tendencies. Harry pondered this as he ate.

He found the talk of blood purity that came with dessert a little grating. He supposed it was a time when it still mattered. After the war most of the pure blood supremacists had been sent to Azkaban, and there had been a series of new Muggle-born friendly policies put in place by the ministry. It was a different world than the one he was sitting in where the rich pure-blood families still bought Wizengamot off, and held the large number of high ranking ministry positions. It was absurd that the world could change so fast, in ten years the entire school of thought had changed.

He looked up at the staff table. There was Dumbledore, still very much healthy and alive chatting merrily with Professor McGonagall. Harry couldn't help but wonder if he knew all along what was going to happen to him. Dumbledore had known near the end, he had even planned what was to happen in the end, but did he know now how everything was destined to play out? If Harry could help it he would try to prevent the old man's death. Then there was Snape. Harry wanted it to be different this time with Snape, he didn't want to be the little James Potter incarnate. Maybe if he made it right with Snape right from day one than both their lives would be easier.

His eyes flicked over Quirrell who was talking to Snape nervously. As he watched the man he felt a sensation he had nearly forgotten. His scar was burning. That was another thing to add to the list of things he disliked about this point in his life. Luckily the burning subsided as quickly as it had come. He sighed, knowing that it would only get worse from there.

After Dumbeldore gave his parting words, including a notice about the third floor corridor on the right hand side, he flicked his wand and the unfortunate Hogwarts school song began. Harry couldn't help but wonder why no one had ever bothered to write a tune. After the Weasley twins finished their funeral march rendition of the song, the prefects lead them off to bed.

Harry was tired as he went into the first years dormitory. He had hoped to cast a disillusionment charm and sneak into the library to find some information on spontaneous time travel, but being in the boy of an eleven year old boy, mean that it seemed he always needed to be in bed by ten o'clock, or else be unbearably tired the next day. He sighed, lying down on his old bed. At least this bed was substantially comfier than the one in the cupboard under the stairs.

Ron was saying something, but at that moment Harry could care less. He welcomed sleep, knowing that tomorrow he was going to change things for the better.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: It's short, and rough, and messy... it's a bit of a quickie, really. If there's anything wrong with it let me know. _

.

Harry's first morning back at school was a strange one. He woke up in bed, which was normal enough, but as he got ready for his first day of classes, he kept noticing his dorm mates glancing at him. It started to make him not only self-conscious, but a little paranoid.

When he caught Seamus looking at him for the third time that morning he finally got fed up.

"What have you all been looking at?"

They all seemed a bit uncomfortable, except Dean, who seemed more confused than anything.

"Honesty, did I do something in my sleep?" Harry looked at all of them, who seemed to be more looking at each other more than at him, it seemed as though they were trying to pick a representative.

Finally Ron spoke up, "I think they want to know about… you know," he gestured towards his forehead.

"Really?" Harry was annoyed. Why is it that children seemed to waver between really embarrassed, and utterly tactless?

"We're just curious, ya' know," Seamus said, almost defensively.

Harry pushed his fringe up, showing them all the scar, which they all tactlessly gawked at.

"Do you… well do you… you know…" Neville was blushing as he spoke.

"I don't really remember. Just a lot of green light really," Harry said, and that seemed to satisfy them somewhat.

Dean looked at them all, "Why does everyone keep going on about your scar?"

.

Harry had forgotten how very dull lessons were, especially when he had taken them all already. Herbology, History of Magic and Charms were all basic classes, in which they were going to cover… all the very basics of everything. The only class that Harry was surprised with what they were going to be learning was History of Magic, and that's simply because he hadn't paid attention the first time.

In transfigurations McGonagall started by turning her desk into a pig, and then back again. Though Harry was impressed, he couldn't help but wonder about the usefulness of that spell: how often does one really need a pig more than a desk?

Harry sat next to Neville in Transfiguration, and after turning his match into a needle, he started to help Neville with his, with better results than most of the class was having.

When McGonagall saw Harry's needle she gave something close to a smile. Harry turned to help Ron, and caught a glimpse of Hermione who was glaring at him. Maybe he would need to play dumb for a while…

Playing dumb was hard though, when answers were so simple, and people were struggling so much. Harry mused that he finally understood how Hermione felt. He spent his days acing his lessons, and his nights either helping Neville or Ron with their work, or going into the study and searching for answers to his time traveling conundrum. His research was turning up absolutely nothing, and he wanted so badly to ask Hermione for help, but she seemed to want nothing to do with him. To her it seemed as though he was competition.

He also drafted several letters which he wanted to send to several people, but he first had to figure out excuses for knowing about their existence. The one he rewrote over and over again was the one he hoped to send to Sirius. He could never quite get the point across without sounding suspicious- the letter was going to Azkaban after all, and he only assumed that someone would monitor all the mail going in and out of there, if mail could even go in or out of there.

On Friday they had potions. It was Harry's first real chance to get along with Snape right off the bat. He walked into the dungeon, and sat down next to Seamus because, if he recalled correctly, that boy needed all the help in potions he could get.

Snape did roll call at the start of class, only stopping at, "Ah yes. Harry Potter. Our new- celebrity."

The man seemed to forget the remainder of the names on the list of students because he launched into a quiet, uncomfortable speech, "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. As there is little foolish wand waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Harry couldn't help but feel as though he had rehearsed that speech before. He wondered if he stood in front of a mirror and-

"Potter!"

Harry was snapped back into reality.

"What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

He had forgotten the pop quiz, and contrary to what they tell you when you are choosing your sixth-year classes, you hardly ever used potions as an auror.

"Umm… The drought of living death?" Harry was pretty sure that was it, or was is an aphrodisiac? He wasn't entirely sure.

Snape sneered, "Correct. How about this, Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Oh, he knew this one. He remembered having to shove one down Ron's throat in sixth year.

"In a goat's stomach?"

The look Snape gave him was unreadable, "I see you have read your books. So then tell me, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Why couldn't Snape have chosen simpler questions? Wolfsbane? Like the potion?... he had been reading about that and how the flower used in brewing the potion was becoming harder to find. What was the flower called? Aconite?

"It that the same as Aconite?" Harry asked, hopeful that he wasn't totally off.

"Yes, Potter, like Aconite. Monkshood and wolfsbane also go by the name of Aconite," he looked at the class, "What aren't you all copying that down?"

The remainder of potions was unbearable. Harry had to stop Seamus from exploding the cauldron at least twice, and then he got scolded when Neville and Ron's cauldron melted and a bad batch of potion spilled onto the floor.

As he and Ron walked down the Hagrid's that afternoon, Harry couldn't help but wonder how he could somehow gain some sort of understanding with Snape without giving away more than what he should. He had really tried to do everything right, as to not give the man reason to hate him, but he knew that so long as he looked like James Potter, Snape would want nothing to do with him. Why was everything just as difficult this time?


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Sorry, I'm feeling really angsty right now, and that reflects in this chapter. I promise happier words soon. _

.

Harry found that hanging out with eleven year olds was rather irritating. He tried really hard to spend time with his dorm mates, but often times he found himself more annoyed than anything else. He liked quidditch as much as the next guy, but how many times could they talk about the statistics of every player who ever lived. Then there was the exploding snap, the wizards chess, and the giggling over newly discovered dirty words, which Ron excelled at due to him having five older brothers.

Harry often wondered if he was ever like that, or about how it was that he managed to be friends with these boys the first time around. They were just so… immature.

Since he could only stand to hang around the common room for an hour or so a day, he often found himself in the library reading material that most seventh years weren't even reading. He chose mostly material that he figured would have been good to know the first time around like healing spells, concealment charms, advanced transfiguration, etc.

Most nights he would put a silencing charm on his bed curtains and practice the spells he had read about that day in an attempt to better prepare for the battle that he knew was going to happen.

Nights when he was too tired for magic he would stay up and try to come up with ideas for how to save wizard kind. He knew that he would need the diadem from the room of requirement, but he would first need his invisibility cloak. He knew that at the beginning of the next year Ginny would get the diary in her cauldron, which he would need to steal. The rest was a bit harder. He was still an underage wizard, and many of the horcruxes required magic to not only obtain, but also to destroy.

Then there was the Sirius question. He wanted to clear Sirius' name, but first he needed to figure out how to force Peter out of his rat form, and there seemed to be no books in the school library about animagus. It was probably so that students (like the Marauders) couldn't take them out and try to turn themselves into animals, but it was just one kink in the plan. He also needed a story to explain how he miraculously knew that his friend's pet rat was actually a supposedly dead man.

One day a notice was pinned up in the Gryffindor common room. The first years were going to be starting flying lessons on Thursday with the Slytherins. Most of the Gryffindors groaned. They hated the Slytherins, just like they had before, only now it all seemed so trivial to Harry. The first year Slytherins were just as irritating as the first year Gryffindors to him. In the battle for Hogwarts there had been Slytherins who had fought on the Order's side, and there had been ex-Gryffindors who had fought against them. When he was an auror he had locked away equal numbers of all three houses (Hufflepuffs never seemed to get into trouble, even after school). If Slytherins were evil, Gryffindors were arrogant pricks, Ravenclaws were pretentious know-it-alls, and Hufflepuffs were senseless pansies.

Thursday morning came quickly. At breakfast Hermione was trying to teach everyone what she had gathered about flying from reading "Quidditch Throughout the Ages", even though the only one who was really listening was Neville who, despite being born into a magical family had never touched a broom before. That morning Neville also received his rememberall.

As Neville examined the object, trying to remember what it is that he had forgotten, Malfoy came up to the table. Malfoy had been more tolerable since he had become something comparable to friends with Harry. This morning though, he seemed to want to cause trouble. He snatched the rememberall from Neville. Ron jumped to his feet, ready for a fight.

"Oh, sit down Ron," Harry said, "And Malfoy, give it back. If you want one so bad then get your father to buy you one."

Malfoy scowled and tossed the object back at Neville who had great difficulty catching it, "I don't want one anyway. Only losers use rememberalls."

And with that the blond boy skulked away. Conflict averted.

"You know that really isn't all that useful, it doesn't tell you what it is you've forgotten," Harry said.

"I know, but my gran thinks it'll help me," Neville looked at the little orb.

"But if you don't think it'll help, then there's no point in starring at it, trying to remember what it is you've forgotten." he said to Neville.

"I guess," Neville put it down on the table, "I might just try making a list."

"That sounds like a good idea," Harry smiled at Neville encouragingly.

At the end of breakfast the first years packed up their things. Neville, having packed up, went to leave, ironically forgetting the rememberall.

Harry spotted it and picked it up, "Oi! Neville, you're rememberall!"

Neville turned, "It looks like you need it Harry."

Harry looked at the ball in his hand which was glowing red.

"What am I forgetting?"

"I dunno," Neville shrugged, "Maybe you should make a list too."

Harry didn't have time to give it much fault, because soon enough the first years were waiting for their first flying lesson to begin.

Madam Hooch stood in front of them.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom and say 'Up!'" she called out.

"Up!" chorused the first years.

Harry's broom jumped up into his hand. It had been too long since he had flown, he felt a wonderful excitement bubble up in him.

They all mounted their brooms, and stood waiting for direction.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch, "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come strait back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle- three- two-"

Neville panicked and jumped. His broom began to rise quickly. Harry suddenly remembered what it was he had forgotten. He drew his wand as Neville slipped sideways off the broom and began to fall.

"Aresto Momentum" he said, aiming his wand at Neville, who slowed and stopped only a foot or two from the ground. He slowly lowered Neville onto the ground.

Everyone in the class watched him, a little shocked, including Madam Hooch, who went over to inspect Neville, who was shaken, but otherwise completely unharmed.

Neville looked up at Harry, "You saved my life."

"You would have done the same for me," Harry said, knowing it was true.

Madam Hooch helped Neville to his feet. She turned to Harry, "That was quick thinking, Potter. Twenty points to Gryffindor."

"Thank you, ma'am." Harry said, feeling a little awkward with everyone still looking at him, "Can we try flying again?"

The lesson continued without any further drama, and it wasn't until Harry was walking back to the castle with Ron and Neville that he realized that it had been on the day of his first flying lesson that he had made the Gryffindor quidditch team. By saving Neville he had blown his chance at being the youngest house player in a century. He had blown his chance at the one thing he was really looking forward to.

That night he didn't really feel like eating dinner. He wandered around the castle, quite honestly sulking. He felt as though he was trapped. He was trapped. He was trapped in an eleven year old body, in a world on the precipice of disaster, surrounded by the child versions of his friends, and no matter how hard he seemed to look, he couldn't find any answers as to why. He had no idea how he was going to destroy the horcruxes he knew existed, or how he was going to explain how he knew they existed. He wanted to talk to Dumbledore, but he had no idea what to say. He wanted to save Sirius, but he had no idea how. He wanted to see Ginny, but not the child Ginny that was in this world, but the lovely grown-up Ginny he loved, and the grown-up Ron, and Hermione, and Neville, and Luna, and… everyone. He wanted to go to work again, and come home to his house. He wanted to see Teddy and take him to the zoo, because Teddy would like that, and his hair would go the most wonderful colours. He wanted his life back.

He just wanted to be alone, and to wallow in his own sadness, so he went into one of the unused classrooms so he could sulk in peace. What he saw amazed him. The mirror of erased. He had forgotten that it was here. It was just what he needed, something he could sit and sulk with.

He went and stood before the mirror. He saw himself, as he was at twenty, before he went back. He was smiling and holding a grinning Ginny in his arms. It looked oddly reminiscent of what he saw the first time he looked in the mirror. He hadn't realized how much he and Ginny looked like his parents. Then it donned on him, he was the same age as his parents had been…

He sat there for a long time looking at the past, which at the moment was also the future.

Would he be able to fall in love with this Ginny now? This Ginny was so much younger than his Ginny, and so much younger than him.

Maybe he and Ginny were something that only existed in another time and place…

That night he didn't practice any spells, or plan any great victories. He just went to bed, and slept like a man who never wanted to wake up, because he feared he never would wake up.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Longer and less angsty than the last one. I'm sort of unsure of what I did with it though. I'm really on the fence about the whole idea that this chapter presents, so please let me know what you think. _

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Hermione Granger didn't trust Harry Potter in the slightest. Now some people may have thought that it was because she resented him, because he seemed to know more than she did, but no, it was because there was something strange about him.

Now Hermione started watching him out of general curiosity, just like how most of the students (and even some of the teachers) had done. He was 'the-boy-who-lived' after all, and that was a generally curious topic, but the more she watched, the more curious the boy seemed to get.

He was very good at magic, as in top of the class without even lifting a finger sort of good. He seemed to get every spell they were taught instantly, and master it without any real effort. Then there was the way he seemed to know things about people before they ever told him, like how he had known that her parents were dentists, when she never recalled telling him. Yet the strangest thing of all, was his reading habits.

Hermione practically lived in the library, so she saw everything that went on, and when Harry Potter started coming to the library every day, naturally she was interested in what it was he was reading. She kept an eye on him, taking note of what it was he was reading, he was reading up on healing spells, concealment charms, advanced transfiguration, and perhaps most curiously time travel. For the first two weeks of school he seemed to spend all of his time poring over every time related book in the library. And soon enough Hermione began to piece it together.

Harry Potter was from the future, that is if it really was Harry Potter. How else could someone explain everything that she found odd about him? It was really quite obvious.

So one night she decided to confront him about it, after doing some research of her own, of course.

Harry was sitting at his usual table in the back of the library, that night he was trying to figure out how to put an undetectable extension charm on his pockets, which was quite a bit harder than one would expect.

Hermione came up and sat across from him, "I've figured it out."

Harry looked up at her, she looked rather smug. Obviously she had figured something out.

"What have you figured out?"

"That you are from the future," she said indignantly.

Harry looked at her. Unsure of how to proceed, why was Hermione so damn good at figuring things out?

"What makes you say that?" he wanted to know what she knew before he said anything.

"It's really quite obvious. You are always reading time travel books, you know far more than any fist year should, and you keep forgetting that you shouldn't know things. Honestly, you really need to keep better track of what you are supposed to know, I mean, do you ever listen?"

Harry closed his book and sighed, "Alright. How do you suppose I got here?" Now he was hoping that she knew more than he did, and that maybe she could explain it to him.

"It's simple, time turners," she said.

"I wish it was that simple," Harry said.

Her look went from all knowing, to rather confused, "Wait, you are from the future, right?"

.

.

.

A bit of explaining later, and Hermione looked about as confused as Harry felt.

"So you just woke up and you were in your eleven year old body?" she asked.

"Pretty much,"

She looked at him, and there was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes, "What am I like in the future?"

"Happy," he said.

"But what is my life like? Do I become a professor? Is it in charms? Because-"

"I'm not going to tell you," Harry said.

"Why not?" she was annoyed. It wasn't often that someone told Hermione that she couldn't know something.

"If I tell you then you will either try to change your future, or prevent certain aspects of it, or you may do things too soon and try to speed up your timeline. Things will start to change for you, and then the future I tell you about won't be your future at all… Trust me, I've already started to change things." Harry said. He didn't want to ruin Hermione's life. She did end up happy.

"You've changed things? What have you changed?" Hermione asked.

Harry sighed, "You know Draco Malfoy?"

"Yeah?"

"Well we were infamous nemesis last time," he explained, "I ended up almost killing him at one point last time, though I don't plan on doing that again this time."

"You almost killed him?" Hermione looked astonished, "Did you get in trouble?"

"Yeah, a lot of it," Harry said, remembering Draco lying on the floor bleeding out as Snape tried to save him. It sent a shiver through him, even though it had been years since that incident.

"What else?" Hermione asked.

"Last time I made the Quidditch team in my first year. I was the youngest house player in a century." Harry still felt a little bit sulky about that.

"Really?" Hermione asked, "Weren't you raised by muggles?"

"Yeah, it was my first time on a broom, and I don't really know how it happened, but I managed to get onto the team. Thanks to Malfoy actually." He shrugged.

"That's quite impressive," Hermione said. She looked at him for a moment, "Were we friends last time?"

"Yeah. Ron and us, the three of us were a trio," he said, a little sad.

"Ron Weasley?" Hermione asked, sounding a bit appalled.

"I know he's a bit… hard to be around now, but he really does end up being a good friend."

"I suppose you would know," she said.

"Yeah, I guess. Though I keep doing things that end up changing the way things work out." Harry said. He had been feeling a bit uncertain about acting, because he had begun to realize that everything seemed to have a ripple effect.

She rolled her eyes. "Well of course it does. Did you expect that everything would turn out the exact same if you started to mess with time?"

"Well no, I just wanted to make things better. In my time there are a lot of bad things that happen to people I love, and I just want to make it so that things turn out better for them."

He looked at her, and she had a rather sympathetic look on her face, "That's so noble, but when you tamper with time, you can't know how things will end up. You may save someone from one thing, just so that they can turn around and get hurt by another. It's dangerous."

"You just sounded so much like the Hermione I knew," he smiled a little bit. She was as mature at eleven as she was at twenty, if anything she had lightened up considerably after the war, and had gotten quite a bit more fun, though she was still the one who prevented him and Ron from getting into too much trouble. It was strange to her the same voice of reason to now come out of this little body.

She blushed a little bit, "Well I am the same Hermione."

"I know, and I think that's really what I need, because I think you can help me just as much as you did last time," Harry had just gotten an Idea.

"Help you with what?" she asked.

"Hermione? How would you like to help me save the world?"

Harry had never seen Hermione look as excited, and as terrified in his life… either of them.

.

On the morning of Halloween the first year Gryffindors had charms, and this particular class was all about learning to make things fly.

Harry ended up pared with Seamus and found himself trying to remember if Seamus had managed to blow anything up in this lesson the first time around.

Ron and Hermione got paired up this time, much to their general discomfort. Hermione had tried to be nicer to Ron after Harry had asked her to, though Ron refused to listen to him regarding her, claiming she was a 'stuck-up, know-it-all who didn't have any friends for a reason'. Harry figured he would need to assure Hermione that Ron wasn't as much of a prat as he seemed, and that he really didn't mean what he said about her.

Harry swished, flicked, and said the charm, and predictably the feather rose off the table. After getting five points for Gryffindor, he committed to teaching Seamus how to do it without causing any fires, and by the end of the period the Irish boy had managed to get the feather to rise up a good four of five feet off the table.

After class Ron was in a particularly bad mood. He hadn't been able to get the feather off the table, while Hermione had gotten it on the first try.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her, she's a nightmare, honestly." Ron said as they walked down the corridor.

"She's really a nice person, you know," Harry said, "And you were pronouncing the spell wrong."

"But she doesn't need to get all prissy about it," Ron made a face.

Hermione had come up behind them, "You know, Ron, I was just trying to help you!" And she pushed past them, looking rather upset.

"Now you've done it," Harry said, very annoyed at Ron, who more sulky than sorry.

Harry went after Hermione, calling out as he jogged after her. When they got to a less crowded hallway she turned, tears in her eyes, "What do you want?"

"To say sorry on behalf of Ron," Harry said, hating to see Hermione upset.

"He's not sorry, you are." She turned to go walk off.

"Hermione?" He said, not wanting her to go cry in the bathroom.

"What?"

"Do you want to go get something to drink?" Harry asked. Then he realized what he just said, and remembered they were eleven years old. "Some tea or pumpkin juice? I'll buy." he added.

"Where are we going to get tea or pumpkin juice? There's still another class before lunch." Hermione said, looking a little less upset.

"Come on, I'll show you," Harry said with a smile before leading her to the statue of the one-eyed witch.

.

As they walked along the passage to the cellar of Honeydukes Harry explained that there was a map with most of the secret passages on it, which Fred and George had at that moment and time. He told her about the invisibility cloak he would be getting for Christmas , and how the Marauders had used the map and the cloak, and how he had used the map and cloak with older Ron and Hermione. He told her about Sirius and Lupin and how Ron's rat was actually a man named Peter, and how Peter had betrayed his friends. By the time they got to Hogsmeade, Hermione had forgotten all about Ron, and was now asking a million questions about animagus, Azkaban, secret passages, rooms of Requirement, and general rule braking.

She only worried about the fact that they were breaking the rules once, and even then it was followed by a, 'well, it is a bit exciting, isn't it?'

They poked around the shops, but since Hermione wasn't carrying any money, and Harry only had a few Knuts they didn't end up buying anything but some butter beer from the Three Broomsticks. Hermione seemed to be having a good enough time, and to her all of the magical shops were still rather… well, magical. She took a particular liking to Tomes and Scrolls, and they ended up spending quite a long time searching for books on time travel and animagus, hoping that there would be some books that couldn't be found in the school library.

It wasn't until the sun began to set that they headed back toward the tunnel in the Honeydukes cellar. Harry ended up having to cast a confundus charm on the witch minding the shop, because she noticed them trying to sneak in the cellar. This made Hermione rather anxious, and she began to go on about what if Dumbledore found out, and what if they got expelled, and they had already broken enough rules, and so on and so forth.

In order to calm her down Harry ended up explaining to her why they were not going to ever get expelled, "Dumbledore won't expel us, because he knows that if he expels me then I won't have the protection of Hogwarts, and he can't just expel one of us, or else he would have to deal with a lot of scrutiny."

Hermione looked a little confused, "Why do you need to be protected?"

"Remember how I told you Voldemort was still alive?" Harry said, "Well, Dumbledore believes that as long as I'm at school he can't harm me."

"Well why exactly does Dumbledore need you alive, not to say that I want you to die, but can't he just go and find all the horcruxes himself?" Hermione asked. She had only been given the annotated version of what they were going to have to do, because Harry didn't want to give too much information about the future away.

"Well I'm not sure why it was he had so much trouble destroying the other horcruxes, but there was a prophecy that says that Voldemort and I need to kill each other, more or less. But Voldemort doesn't know I'm a horcrux, so I need him to kill me, before I can kill him." Harry explained in as few words as possible.

"So you've already died?" Hermione asked, sounding rather amazed.

"Well the bit of Voldemort's soul that was latched onto mine died," Harry said nonchalantly.

"So it's like neither of you can live while the other one is still alive…" she said.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle, "Yeah, that's exactly it. 'Neither can live while the other survives.'"

Hermione looks at him, "Why is that funny? You have to die?"

"It's not like I haven't done it before," he said, "And it's funny because that is a line in the prophecy."

Hermione flushed a little, "Oh."

"Oh, that's another thing we have to do," Harry said, "We need to break into the Ministry of Magic and destroy the prophecy before Voldemort gets it."

Hermione stopped then, "We need to break into the Ministry now too?"

Harry turned to her, "Yeah. Don't worry though; the only things we break into are the Ministry, and Gringotts."

"Oh, that's it?" her voice was thick with sarcasm.

"It's really not that bad, I mean it turned out alright last time… well except the…" he suddenly remembered what happened in the Ministry. Sirius had fallen into the vale…

"Except the what?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, it… it's nothing. We can plan around it this time." Harry said.

"Can I ask why it was that I signed up for this the first time around?" Hermione asked.

"Because you didn't know what it was you were signing up for until our fifth year."

"Our fifth year?" she looked shocked, "You were kept in the dark about this until out fifth year?"

"We didn't learn about the horcruxes until the end of our sixth," Harry said, "And we didn't learn about the hallows until the summer before what would have been our seventh."

"So you had to do everything over the course of a year?" Hermione asked, still looking rather shocked.

"More or less," Harry said, "That's why I want to get a head start on it now, so we can avoid the camping trip from hell that was our seventh year."

"Camping trip from hell? We didn't go to our seventh year?" Hermione asked.

"No, because the ministry had named me "Undesirable No. 1" and so we were on the run." Harry said, and Hermione just stared at him. Had he said too much? She was still just and eleven year old girl. The fear that he had pushed Hermione away began to well up inside him.

"I was a convict?" she looked a bit dazed.

"Only for a few months…" Harry said encouragingly. If he lost Hermione he would be on his own again.

"Will we have to be convicts again?" she asked.

"Not if we play our cards right this time."

"Did I die?" she asked, sounding unsure of both the question, and what she feared the answer would be.

"No." Harry said, afraid to say anything else.

"Did my parent's die?"

"No." Harry said.

"Is there a chance they could this time?" she looked him in the eyes. She looked so young…

"Not if everything turns out." Harry said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

"But what if it doesn't turn out?"

"We didn't know if it was going to turn out the last time either, but we had to fight, because even when we were surrounded by darkness, we still held the power to make light, and that's what we did, was we made light. If you don't want to help me, I understand. It's scary, even for me, and I've lived it before. But if you were to help me, it could make a world of difference, literally." He held eye contact with her, until she sighed and looked away.

"I will help you, because I'm scared that Voldemort will come to power again, more than I'm scarred of breaking to rules." She said.

Harry hugged her, which took her a bit by surprise.

"We will have to start training though, and soon, because Quirrell has Voldemort living on the back of his head right now, and towards the end of the year he is going to try to steal the Philosopher's stone which happens to be under the castle as we speak."

.

They got back into the school just after the sun had set, and were greeted by something very odd… silence. There was no one around, anywhere.

"This is strange…" Harry said, trying to remember what would have happened that had caused the school to clear out. Then he saw it, the fully grown mountain troll ducking into the girl's bathroom… Shit.

"That is a troll that Quirrell let into the school. Last time Ron and I fought it off." Harry said, explaining the situation to the rather stunned looking Hermione.

"It would probably be best if we went back to the common room, and left this to the teachers." Hermione said, staring at where the troll had been.

"Yeah, that's probably best." Why fight a troll when you don't really have to, right?

And with that they headed up to the Gryffindor common room at a jog.

"Why on earth did you decide to take on a troll?" Hermione asked as they started up the stairs.

"We were trying to save you, actually." Harry said.

"Why on earth did I decide to take on a troll?"

"You didn't," he explained, "You were in the bathroom that troll just went into crying, and so we saved you."

"I was crying?"

Harry nodded, "Over what Ron said earlier."

"But Ron came to save me?" she asked.

"Yeah," they stopped outside the portrait hole, "Ron's really not as bad as he seems."

"What are you two doing out? Didn't you hear about the troll?" the Fat Lady said.

"Caput Draconis," Harry said.

"You know you really ought to-"

Harry cut her off, "Caput Draconis"

"No need to get angry," the Fat Lady said, as she swung open with a bit of a huff.

.

That night as Harry lied in bed he couldn't help but feel slightly more at ease about things. He had Hermione on his side now, and this time around he knew what he was doing. Maybe things would turn out alright. Maybe there would be no darkness, and the world could just be filled with the light. Maybe, he hoped, things will get better.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Okay, for those of you who like Ron and/or Draco you will be happy ducks in this chapter. Also, I'm over half way through the first book with this story, and I've been wondering if you want me to continue this story. I can finish this book, or the whole story arch if there's interest, but if not, I might try to get some friends or something. The future of this story is in your hands. Keep going, or just leave it? The fate of this story lies in your hands. _

_Enjoy._

.

November brought cold weather to Scotland, and more work to Harry Potter. Harry spent his days in classes, and his nights either playing the professor with Hermione, helping her to learn all of the spells he thought they would need, or hanging around the common room with Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean.

Ron and Hermione still weren't on good terms, and Harry began to try to remember when it was that they became friends. He really wished that he had some sort of written record of these things, because he was nearly positive that by the middle of November they had formed the "Golden Trio" as all the future history books called them. He put it on his list of things to do.

There was something even more puzzling to Harry, though. Something he would have never seem coming, his strange friendship (if you could even call it that) with Draco Malfoy. It started with sitting next to him in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and making small talk, to Draco inviting Harry to sit with him at the Slytherin table at dinner (which Harry politely declined).

As strange as it was, once you got past the pureblood mania, Draco wasn't that bad of a guy. He liked Quidditch, both "The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle" and "Loony Nonby v.s. Cornish Pixie", wizard's chess, Honeyduke's candy and all the things that every other eleven year old wizard seemed to like. It seemed as though he was just a normal boy, who go brought up in a bad home, and Harry ended up feeling bad for him more than anything. Harry even went as far as going to hang out with him, Crabbe and Goyle, which was weird, but not wholly terrible.

Hermione hated that Harry talked to Draco, though, and he couldn't really blame her. Malfoy's animosity towards Hermione rivaled that of Ron, and no matter how much Harry tried to convince them that she really wasn't that bad, they didn't want to listen.

At least there was Neville. Neville seemed to like Hermione, and he would sit next to her often at dinner, and the two of them would discuss all the plants and herbs and fungi that Harry really had no patience to remember.

All around Harry was not having an unpleasant time. It was different, but not in a particularly bad way.

Then came the morning of the first Quidditch match of the season. It was the first Gryffindor match that Harry had been to, where he hasn't playing, and he couldn't help but feeling sullen about it.

"Why are you so sulky this morning?" Ron asked that morning at breakfast, his mouth full of cereal.

"I don't know," Harry lied as he poured himself some orange juice.

"Well cheer up, mate, today's the first match of the season," Ron said.

"It'll be good. I hear we have a real good team this year," Seamus said.

Ron was in his element, "I hear the seeker they got is brilliant."

This piqued Harry's interest.

"Who is the new seeker?" he asked.

"A fifth year girl named Tracie Everson," Ron said excitedly.

Harry's mood, needless to say, didn't improve with this news. She was fifth year. That meant that she could be on the team for another two years after the current one. They wouldn't need a new seeker until Harry's fourth year, and then there would be the Triwizard Tournament, and he wouldn't be able to play anyway. So he would have to wait until fifth year, which was a long way away.

As the school made its way down to the field, Harry was surrounded by excited chatter, which seemed to worsen his already less than sunny disposition.

The match was a success for Gryffindor, who won by nearly two hundred points. Harry had to admit the seeker was a good flyer, and she did catch the snitch within an hour of the start of the match.

He remembered the first time he was at this particular match, and how he had nearly been thrown off his broom, and began to feel worried. The last time Quirrell had tried to kill him, what was to say that he wouldn't do it again? He knew that if he was killed it would destroy the horcrux in his forehead, and maybe he could come back to life again, like he had last time, but he would rather not waste his one chance at resurrection in his first year, he knew that he would need that later. This left him worried about when and where Quirrell would strike.

.

That answer came only a week later. It was Wednesday night, and the first year Gryffindors had Astronomy. They were mapping Taurus, Orion, and the seven sisters. Harry was leaning on the ledge on the southern side of the tower, trying to get the spacing between Taurus and Orion right, when suddenly the section of ledge he was leaning on disappeared, causing Harry to lose his balance, and fall off the side of the astronomy tower.

His wand was in his pocket, and he was trying to draw it as quickly as he could, but the ground was approaching quicker. He began to panic, his hand fumbling to grab his wand. Twenty feet, fifteen, ten. Oh god, he was going to hit the ground. He braced, and was hit, but not by the ground, but by a spell that stopped him in midair, only inched from the ground.

It had hit him hard enough to wind him, but he was otherwise intact. As he was lowered the last few inches to the ground, he saw a shadowy figure dash into the woods with its hood drawn. It had to have been Quirrell.

"Stay there Potter!" Harry heard Professor Sinistra call out from atop the tower.

He lied on the ground trying to remember how to breath, and then trying to stop his heart from feeling as though it was about to explode. He had just nearly plunged to his death. Had Professor Sinistra not been so quick on her feet, he would be dead.

Slowly he sat up, feeling slightly queasy.

Professor Sinistra, Ron and Hermione all came running over, followed by the nervously whispering first years that were in his class.

The Professor kneeled down beside him, "Are you alright? Is anything broken?"

"No," Harry said, "I'm just a bit shaky."

"You would be a lot worse than shaky if Malfoy hadn't saved you," Hermione said. She looked as pale as Harry felt.

"Malfoy?" Harry said. He looked around at the people crowding around him, Malfoy wasn't there.

"Oh yes, he did a damn good job," she looked around, and also noticed he wasn't there, "fifty points to Slytherin, even though Malfoy seems to have run off."

She looked at Harry, and then to Ron and Hermione, "Can you two make sure he gets to the hospital wing. Just to be safe, and the rest of you go back to your common rooms, class is dismissed. I need to speak to the head master."

She stood up and walked back into the castle.

Hermione and Ron helped him up, and through the crowd of whispering people, who all wanted to ask him about what happened. As they were walking Harry turned to Hermione, "It was Quirrell, I know it."

"You think Quirrell tried to kill you?" Ron sounded utterly shocked.

"Yeah, he's trying to steal the philosopher's stone, which is hidden in the castle," Harry said.

"What?" Ron looked totally lost.

"The philosopher's stone is used to produce the Elixir of Life, which makes the drinker immortal. It's hidden here, because Voldemort is trying to steal it, so that he can be brought back to life, because now he is just sort of a soul." Hermione said, sounding impatient, "Oh, and Quirrell is working for Voldemort."

Ron looked at them, "How do you two know all this?"

"Well, we found the three-headed dog on the third floor, and noticed there was a trap door under its feet. Hagrid ended up giving away that the dog was guarding something secret involving Nicolas Flamel. We did a bit of research, and found out who that was, and we learned the stone had been in that Gringott's vault that was robbed a few months ago. So obviously someone was trying to get it, right? But who would want to live forever more than someone who at the moment wasn't really alive, so the clear choice is Voldemort." Harry said. He didn't really want Ron knowing about his time traveling, because he didn't really want Ron to get hurt. Hermione understood how messy time was, but Ron most likely wouldn't handle the situation as well.

Ron's eyebrows furrowed, "But how do you know it's Quirrell?"

"On Halloween he let the troll in. It was a rouse to lure all the teachers away so he could sneak up to the third floor, but Snape went to stop him." Harry said, "That's why he had that wound on his leg the next day."

"But how did you know that the troll was a rouse?" Ron seemed somewhere between scarred and impressed. Harry and Hermione looked at each other, trying to figure out how they knew this.

"Well, um…" Harry said.

"We weren't at the Halloween feast, remember? We were trying to figure out who it was that was trying to get the stone when we saw Quirrell sneaking off, followed by Snape. Later that night we heard about the troll, and naturally put two and two together," Hermione said, saving the day, yet again.

Ron thought about that for a moment.

"Well, why does he want to kill you though?"

"Because he probably sees me as a threat, I mean, I stopped him once before, what if I do it again?" Harry said as they turned down the hall that led to the hospital wing.

"So are you going to try to stop Quirrell?" Ron asked, looking at Harry with a mix of concern and awe.

"I'm going to have to, if he gets the stone Voldemort might come back," Harry said.

They got to the doors of the hospital wing, and Harry walked inside where he was greeted by a very tired looking Madam Pomfrey, who gave him some strange green potion to 'help with his nerves' and sent him off to bed.

.

The next day Harry spotted Malfoy on his way to breakfast.

"Malfoy!" he called.

The blond boy turned, to see who it was, "Morning Potter."

"Morning," Harry said, "I just wanted to say thank you. For saving me last night, Hermione told me it was you."

Draco did something that almost looked like a smile, "I think you're pretty damn lucky I was there."

At any other point in Harry's life that would have had an entirely different meaning.

"I was pretty damn lucky," Harry admitted, "What spell did you use?"

"Aresto Momentum. The one you used to save Longbottom," Malfoy said proudly.

"It was brilliant." Harry said.

"I know," Malfoy actually smiled this time, and Harry couldn't help but join him.

As they walked into the Great Hall together, Harry realized the absurdity of the situation. He was becoming friends with Draco Malfoy.

.

That evening Harry encountered a very normal situation which, given the context of the situation, was absurd.

He was sitting in the common room with Ron and Neville, trying to help them with their potions essay when Hermione Granger came over and sat down net to them, and offered to help. Now, that on its own would have been an obscure occurrence, but what propelled it to the level of outright bizarre was that Ron not only took the help, but thanked her for coming and offering in the first place.

Neville and Harry looked at each other for a moment, hoping that the other one would know what was going on, before shrugging and realizing it was better not to question.

It seemed as though there were certain instances in life which brought people infinitely closer, and it seemed as though having to defeat Voldemort was just one of those instances.


End file.
